Claiming My Bride of Convenience

‘He let me know at every opportunity that he didn’t want me there, and that I would never get a penny from him. Andreas was groomed as the heir and given every opportunity—private school, horse riding lessons, whatever... I was raised separately with a nanny, in a poorer neighbourhood. I learned how to fight at the local school.’

Where I’d been bullied mercilessly for being the posh boy, even though I was anything but.

‘I was kept apart from them, and when my grandfather did deign to see me I was ignored or insulted.’

Or worse. But again I kept silent. The last thing I wanted was Daisy’s pity.

‘It was a tough way to grow up,’ I resumed, keeping my voice brisk. ‘But in some ways it made me stronger, so I have my grandfather to thank for th

at.’

‘But he made you the heir to his business...’ Daisy said, her forehead furrowed with confusion. ‘And he required you to marry... How does that fit in?’

My chest felt tight as memories washed over me. ‘When we were thirteen, as I told you before, Andreas was in a skiing accident. He suffered a traumatic brain injury which left him in the mental state of an eight-year-old. He was no longer fit to take over the business, but I was. My grandfather hated that, let me tell you.’

‘So he made your life even more of a misery?’ Daisy surmised. ‘Even though he needed you?’

‘Something like that.’

There was a sudden transfer to boarding school, where I had the wrong accent, the wrong everything. Where the truth about me had always seemed to seep out like poison: He’s a bastard. His mother was a whore. And, worse, there were holidays back home, when my grandfather did his best to ignore me—or rage at me. At least Eleni was out of the picture by then...

‘There’s no love lost between us, as I told you three years ago.’

‘So why did he require you to marry?’

I shrugged. ‘Sheer perversity, perhaps? Or he might have hoped it would lend me respectability when he handed over the reins—which he knew he had to. He had cancer, and I’d already shown myself to be more than capable.’

‘And then you married a down-and-out waitress instead of the blue blood I’m sure he was hoping for.’ She shook her head. ‘He must have loved that.’

‘He was annoyed, yes.’ I glanced at her. ‘But the last thing I wanted was some snobby socialite.’

‘So you chose me on purpose because of my lack of suitability?’

She sounded amused, but I still felt the need to be careful.

‘Yes, I suppose... But you were suitable to me.’

‘I don’t mind, Matteo. I’ve never had pretensions to grandeur.’

‘Which is one of the things I lo—like about you.’ Horrified, I realised what word had been about to slip out of my mouth. ‘But my grandfather doesn’t matter to us, Daisy. You never even need to see him. I hope that you don’t.’

‘I think he does matter,’ she returned sadly. ‘He’s obviously shaped who you are, whether you wanted him to or not. Is he still involved in the business?’

‘Only as a figurehead. When I married I gained the controlling shares, and I will keep them for as long as I stay married—which I intend to. So he really doesn’t concern us at all.’ I reached for her hand, lacing her fingers through mine. ‘And now you know.’

‘Do I?’

She searched my face, clearly guessing there were things I hadn’t said.

‘You know enough.’ I leaned over to brush my lips against hers. ‘I really am sorry for being a jackass before,’ I whispered against her mouth.

‘Your apologies are so charming.’ She smiled at me and I deepened the kiss, need flooding through me sweeter than ever before. I couldn’t get enough of her—now or ever.

‘Matteo...’ Her voice became a mewl of urgency as she grabbed my shoulders, pulling me closer. We fell back on the terrace, barely aware of the hard stones beneath us as my hand slipped under her dress.

Lost in the daze of our shared passion, neither of us heard the quick footsteps, or even the clearing of a throat until it was too late.

‘Mr Dias... I am so sorry to interrupt...’